


Emotional Gainz

by girlmarauders, growlery



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Cover Art, M/M, Podfic, Podfic Length: 30-45 Minutes, emotional gainz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-07-10 08:15:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19902607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlmarauders/pseuds/girlmarauders, https://archiveofourown.org/users/growlery/pseuds/growlery
Summary: *tough guy with tattoos approaches you at the gym*: you in touch with your feelings, bro? you ever just cry from joy? you tryin your best to stay gentle and open-hearted in a world that can be callous and cruel?





	1. Chapter 1

  


# [download/stream from dropbox](https://www.dropbox.com/s/qntgdlbl5ux4d0b/Emotional%20Gainz.mp3?dl=0)

or, stream below if your browser supports it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> size: 21MB
> 
> length: 34:27
> 
> music: location by freelance whales


	2. Chapter 2

Auston was in Central Process Conditioning, and he wasn’t happy about it. They made them do it in shifts - one day on, one day off - and the other half of the team were doing leg day, which sounded preferable. The CPC trainer was holding the talking puck, which they had to pass around in a circle, and trying to make direct, unblinking eye contact with each of them, one right after the other. Auston elbowed Mitch, probably a little too hard, because the trainer was staring at him, and wouldn’t look away until Mitch met his eyes.

“Why do they always gotta stare at us so much?” Mitch asked in a whisper, when the guy had moved on to staring at Brownie, who looked blankly back. Auston shrugged. Central was weird, but it was always weird. You did it because you had to, and because it undeniably did make you a better player, not because you wanted to.

“Okay,” the trainer said seriously. “We’re gonna start our first exercise now. Who here has worked with ‘I statements’ before?”

There was a long pause during which most of the guys tried to avoid making eye contact with the trainer and each other, and then Mo sighed and put his hand up, his hand only reaching parallel with his shoulder. Slowly, but less fraught now that someone else had broken the ice, a few of the other guys raised their hands.

“Excellent!” The trainer said. “Morgan, would you like to start?”

The Central trainers always called them by their first names. Not even Coach called them that - he mostly shouted their number at them, or would occasionally bark "Rielly!" across the change room, if he really needed your attention.

"What we'll be doing today is something I'd really like us to get into the habit of, and we'll be doing this as a regular drill," the trainer said. "Every week I'm going to put a topic on the white board, and we'll go around the group with "I" statements on the topic. Remember, everything you say in this room stays here. We really want to use this time to clear any emotional blockages, and prepare to be the most effective athletes possible."

All the guys nodded slowly, keeping their faces blank. You didn't want to give them anything they could use to 'volunteer' you for drills. The trainer turned and wrote on the board "team" in big letters, and then circled it.

"Okay boys, "I" statements on this theme," the trainer said, and looked at them expectantly.

"Well," Mo said, into the silence.

"Ehem," the trainer said, and lifted the puck in his hand. Mo turned bright red fast, and to someone who didn't know him, he probably looked embarrassed, but Auston knew he was pissed off. Fuck this guy and his stupid Talking Puck.

"May I have the Talking Puck coach," Mo said slowly, and the trainer laughed, like it was a great joke.

"You can call me Josh boys," he said, with a smile. He tossed the puck to Mo, and he caught it one-handed without his expression changing. He looked around at the rest of the team, all of them waiting for him to get them started so they could copy him.

"I...feel good about the team this year," Mo said, and Josh smiled.

"Great! Who wants to go next?" he said.

Mo didn't wait for anyone to volunteer, just threw the puck to Connor, who caught it.

"I...also feel good about the team this year," Brownie said, and Josh waggled his finger.

"Ah, ah!" He said, and Auston wanted to roll his eyes so bad. What a douchebag. "No repetition!"

"Why does he get to talk without the puck?" Mitch muttered under his breath. Auston snorted, and then tried to cover it up by running his hand over his face.

"I..want us to do well?" Connor said finally, his face contorted in confusion. Josh nodded, and Connor threw the puck away like it was on fire. Zach caught it.

"I am excited about a new season with this team," he said confidently, obviously having prepared it in advance. Then he passed it to John, who was sitting next to him. Auston tried to listen closely without looking like he was listening. John seemed fine, but he was new, and sometimes people did weird things in CPC. Patty claimed to have cried once on the Sharks, but Auston didn't believe him. That seemed like too much.

“Um,” John said, but it didn’t really sound like a pause. John just seemed to start all sentences that way. "I want to work hard for you guys."

That seem innocuous enough. Auston had been on the lookout for comments about "making a difference" or "turning things around". They'd been doing fine without him. John looked in his direction, and Auston was about to react when Mitch said "aw shit" under his breath, and then caught the puck when JT tossed it across to him.

"Uh," Mitch said, clearly scrambling. "I scored a goal in practice yesterday with JT's help."

Josh made a face, and even Auston was pretty sure that wasn't in the spirit of the whole activity, but no one had time to react because Mitch immediately passed the puck to Auston, tossing it in a little sideway jump. Auston didn't realise till the last second, and had to reach out to grab it.

"Okay Auston," Josh said, when he had the puck. "Do you have an I statement to share?"

"Uh," Auston said. I miss Willy popped fully-formed into his head, and he bit down hard on the urge to say it. No one wanted to hear about his boyfriend feelings, least of all himself. Kappy was sitting on the other side of the room, looking bored, his legs spread wide and extended away from him. Auston knew Kappy hadn’t talked to Willy since last season, aside from a couple texts, which didn’t count. He didn’t want to be that guy, who talked about Willy like other people didn’t have feelings about him too, that were just as important and valid, and--. Auston missed his boyfriend.

“I want us to make a really deep run this year,” Auston said, when he realised he had to say something. It wasn’t really the point of the exercise, and Josh made one of those “I cannot call you out for following instructions but also you have willfully misunderstood the point of this drill” faces. Auston needed to get rid of the puck fast, and he was already looking at Kappy across the room, so he tossed it, and prayed Kappy wouldn’t say anything about Willy.

Later, they were doing drills down one end of the ice, a few of them in lines hanging out in the corner and waiting for the other group to finish the drill. Auston wasn’t really thinking about anything, just shifting his weight back and forth on his skates and unfocusing on the guys fighting for the puck, when Zach finished his part of the drill, and joined the line next Auston. It was only him and Naz and Zach in the corner, so Auston poked at Zach’s feet with his stick, mostly to get his attention. Naz didn’t have any patience for him, and would only make fun of him. Zach didn’t like to chirp very much, mostly because he wasn’t good at it, and usually just swore at guys who bothered him on the ice.

Zach grabbed his stick and pulled him over, Auston letting him so they bounced against each other, helmets clacking.

“You alright man?” Zach said. Auston nodded. He knew Zach took CPC seriously; Babs was always getting on their case about working at it like Zach did, but it didn’t matter how much Auston thought he should release emotional pressure to improve his game, talking to Zach about it felt weird. He wished Willy was around.

"Yeah. Are you talking to Willy tonight?" he said. Zach shrugged, and they both turned to watch when Naz stepped up into the drill.

“I wasn’t gonna. You gonna call him?”

“Sure,” Auston said, and then they couldn’t talk anymore, because it was his turn in the drill.

In the change room, Auston peeled off his sweaty socks, and kicked off his shin guards, wiggling his toes to try and let them breathe. There wasn’t anything dramatic, like an empty stall where Willy would have been, but right about now he would have been coming out of the shower, absolutely naked and grinning about something. It wasn’t quiet without him, because Mitch expanded to the shape of the vessel containing him, and Auston could hear him singing from the shower, but Auston missed him, and wished he was there. It wasn’t more complicated than that. In CPC, they were always asking you to describe your feelings, to use more than one sentence to say what they were, but that stuff only every annoyed Auston. Why pretend there was some deep well of feeling underneath, when it was actually pretty simple. Across the room, he made eye contact with Zach for just a brief second, and Zach shrugged, like he knew a little of what Auston was feeling. Another practice done without Willy there.

Zach jerked his head sideways, and Auston followed it, still undressing mechanically. Kappy was in his compression shorts, shirtless, scrolling through his phone. Auston couldn't see his face, but the little hunch of Kappy's shoulders, the way he angled the phone towards him fake-casually like he didn't want anyone to see the screen, made it pretty clear he wasn't just scrolling insta.

Zach raised his eyebrows at Auston, but he just shrugged. What was he supposed to do about it? He knew Willy and Kappy hadn't really talked since before the summer, but only because Willy would have said something if there was anything official. Zach rolled his eyes, and Auston decided that was permission to go back to undressing.

He was just towelling his hair, fully dressed in his street clothes, when his phone buzzed on the bench next to him, the screen lighting up. It was a snap from Willy, and something bloomed warmly in Auston’s chest, the little fission he still felt every time he had proof that Willy noticed him, remembered him, sent him messages without prompting. He ran a hand over his face to try and contain his smile. God, he had it bad.

“What are you grinning at, loser?” Mitch said, and kicked his shin. Auston tried to dodge him, but just slid into Brownie, and got kicked anyway.

“Nothing,” Auston said, but he was still smiling. Mitch made a face at him.

“Whatever,” he said. “Come and play video games with me.”

“Sure,” Auston said. He wasn’t going to say no.

Mitch drove like a total douchebag, but Auston put his feet on the dash and played on his phone while they inched through traffic.

“Get your feet off my dash you asshole,” Mitch said. “I will crash this car I swear to god.”

Auston rolled his eyes.

“Don’t be a drama queen, your dash is fine,” he said. Willy had sent him a couple snaps, one right after the other, and Auston was watching them. He was out for dinner somewhere with his sister, and he’d sent a selfie with her, both of them pulling funny faces, and then a picture of the food, a selfie just on his own, light reflecting off his glasses. He was growing the beard out, and it made him look older, like he’d been gone for longer than a few months. The last snap must have come in later, because it was another selfie but he looked like he was home, reclined on the sofa of his sister’s apartment. There wasn’t a time limit on the snap, and Auston stared at it for a long time before he finally tapped it away.

“Staring at your boyfriend Matts?” Mitch said, and Auston hastily put his phone down on his thigh.

“Shut up,” he said, since he couldn’t say “no”. Mitch snorted, and signalled to pull into the parking garage for his building. When he parked the car, he didn’t immediately open the door, and after a second he twisted to look at Auston.

“You know,” he said, looking pained. “If you wanted to talk about Willy, you could. To me.”

Mitch’s face did not look like either of them would enjoy that experience. Auston patted his leg, feeling a bit pained himself.

“That’s okay Marns,” he said, and Mitch took a breath.

“Oh thank god,” he said, scrambling at his seatbelt. “Let’s get out of the car.”

In the elevator, Mitch dug out his phone and showed Auston a tiktok he thought was hilarious, and they only talked about that until the Fortnite game was in full flow. Auston lost three times in a row, and then they dropped the controls and wrestled on Mitch’s couch, until they were both sweaty and panting.

“Okay, uncle, uncle, oooft get off me,” Mitch said, smacking Auston’s back when Auston put a shoulder in his stomach.

Auston ruffled a hand through his hair as final revenge, and then climbed off him, making sure to put his knees and elbows in every sensitive place he could find.

"God, you are such a dick," Mitch said, when he finally wriggled free. "I'm getting a new best friend."

"No you aren't," Auston said smugly.

They ate boxed nutritionist meals out of Mitch's fridge, and Auston called an uber home, putting his headphones on in the back so he could listen to his music. He texted Willy.

 **omw home u awake for me to call u?** 😎💯

The dots popped up as Willy typed, and then:

**yah babe call me when ur home**

Auston took the stairs out his parking garage two at a time, and then couldn't stop fidgeting in the elevator, his phone in his hand, his foot tapping. He opened his front door with one hand, and hit facetime with the other. Willy picked up on the second ring, and he was shirtless in bed, the light low and coming from the side, just the lamp on.

"Hey," Auston said, standing still in his hallway.

"Hi," Willy said, quietly, his face lighting up.

"What time is it there?" Auston said, trying to take his shoes off and put his keys down without lowering his phone. Willy yawned.

"Late. It's okay. I wanted to see you," he said. Auston's heart clenched.

"I miss you," he said, his shoes finally off, going into his room and sitting on the bed.

"I miss you too," Willy said. He sounded tired. "How was practice?"

"It was okay. Zach thinks Kappy misses you but doesn't want to say it," Auston said. Willy made a face, his nose wrinkled up.

"He said that?" he said. Auston shrugged.

"Uh, not out loud. But he kinda implied it," he said.

"I sent him some snaps but he's not responding," Willy said. "I can't do anything if he doesn't answer."

"I know, I know, I'm not getting on your case. I'm just saying," Auston said.

"Did Kappy say anything?" Willy asked. Auston shook his head.

"You should talk to him Will, he's not gonna talk to me," he said. Willy looked down, and then to the side, at something Auston couldn't see offscreen.

"You're in CPC with him right?" Willy asked. "Did he seem..okay?"

Honestly, Auston mostly tried not to listen to other people during CPC. It was a bit like being in the shower. You were naked, they were naked, everyone tried to give each other the dignity of pretending no one was naked.

"Uh, he seemed okay," Auston said. Willy's face very deliberately did not move at all, and Auston had the sinking feeling that signaled he'd said the wrong thing.

"Well, that's okay then," Willy said, with a bright smile. "He's fine, I'm fine, it's great!"

Auston was not particularly great at CPC usually, but he hadn't gotten to be as good at hockey as he was without doing some work on his emotional game. Until he'd left home, it was his mom who'd helped him do the talking and processing that let you put on muscle. If you held it in, your body wouldn't let you get stronger, and even your muscle memory was worse. That was just science.

"Willy," he said slowly. Usually he only ever broached emotional topics like this in CPC activities. That was the best way to do it, what you talked about in CPC stayed there, and the organised emotional drills were a safe place to work through things that upset you, with professionals on hand at every moment. But Willy wasn't on the team right now, and there was no one making sure he processed the emotions that held him back from training.

The phone moved, and Willy rearranged himself so he was lying down, one hand behind his head, more of his bare chest exposed. Auston's mouth felt dry. Willy was one of those people who was just supernaturally good-looking, and sometimes Auston would forget and get forcefully reminded of it all at once, like a slap to the face.

Whatever he'd wanted to tell Willy was gone, forgotten in the face of Willy's blond chest hair, and flat pink nipples. Willy smirked at him.

"It's late," he said, in a tone of voice that made Auston immediately flush red. "You should take your shirt off."

Auston didn't think about anything else for the rest of the night.

  
&&&

Kappy always hated CPC. He'd done it with every team obviously, although in Finland, and honestly in Philly too, it usually involved going to the sauna and drinking heavily. Canadians always wanted to talk about their feelings and they were always smiling. It was creepy. He wanted to go to CPC, listen to some guy talk about emotional scans, and then get the hell outta there to go skate. He was faster than nearly everyone on the ice already, why did he have to clear emotional blockages?

When Auston tossed him the talking puck, he said "I am ready to work hard," which had been his go-to answer on this for years. Josh was new, and had to keep tabs on an entire roster of wiley idiots, it would take him at least a couple of months to figure out Kappy said the same thing every time.

After practice, he sat in his stall, flicking through notifications on his phone. His sister with a meme, the Finnish group chat with some weak chirping, a couple of friends from junior responding to messages, and then, the notification he hadn't realised he was dreading, several snaps from Willy. He flicked the notification away quickly, trying not to think about it. He'd look at them later, which was what he'd told himself yesterday, and the day before that. The last six messages in his whatsapp chat were from Willy, all unanswered.

He opened instagram, and the last searched account was Willy's finsta. He tried not to watch his story, because he knew Willy could see when he'd seen it, but the temptation was too great now, thinking about all the pictures sitting in his snapchat, unwatched. It was too personal to look at a picture sent just for him to see, but watching his story, visible to hundreds of people, felt less exposed.

Willy was messing around with his sister, making faces in selfies, and boomerangs of them eating. Kappy watched the dumb loop run over and over, Willy's bright smile at the end of it, sweet and devastating.

Around him guys were getting undressed, and Kappy was just sitting in his compression layer holding his phone but it was hard to look away. Part of him was conflicted and angry to see Willy being happy and gorgeous, far away, while they were getting on with the business of the season, and another part of him wanted to be there with him, on holiday, back in the summer when he'd spent each night thinking of Willy, and the unknowable blank future they had together.

Willy had promised him, "when the season starts", and now the season had started and Willy wasn't there.

He closed insta quickly, his stomach twisting painfully. When he glanced up, Zach was looking at him.

“What?” Kappy said, with a little bite. Zach ashrugged.

“Nothing,” he said peaceably. “You alright man?”

Kappy pulled his top lip up, not in a smile at all.

“I’m fine, he said snappily. Annoyingly, Zach didn’t react.

“Sure,” he said, and then bent to tie his shoes. Kappy bit down on the overwhelming urge to throw something at him. Sure, Zach could be all relaxed and chill about everything, he didn't have to worry that Willy was going to forget about him, he got to smoothly refer to Willy as "my boyfriend" in conversation and have no one comment on it. Fuck him.

Kappy threw his phone into his bag, and finished changing in a temperamental rush. Auston and Mitch were talking when he left, and Auston looked up at him, just a split second. Auston raised an eyebrow at him, but Kappy didn’t react. He didn’t want to get pulled into a stupid discussion about Auston’s shopping, or Mitch’s girlfriend’s opinion on hummus. Auston’s face fell, but then Kappy was out the door of the change room, and he didn’t have to worry about any bullshit like Auston’s feelings anymore.

He threw his bag into the back of his car, satisfied by the noise it made, but the brief satisfaction of being angry faded when he got into the driver’s seat. He banged his head against the headrest, but it was too padded to hurt and didn’t make him feel any better. God, this sucked. How could he have known it would suck this much?

It had lasted all last season, the strange energy between him and Willy, the way Kappy's stomach twisted up at Willy's smiles. They had always been friends, but the tide had shifted: they weren't only friends anymore.

It had all come to a head at the end of the season. It had been clean out day. Willy's flight to Stockholm was booked for the next day, and all his stuff was packed, his car in storage. Kappy had driven him, because they drove each other everywhere and Kappy never said no to Willy. There was going to be a party, sort-of, at Mo's, after they all finished with clean out.

Willy climbed into Kappy’s car, looking a little subdued. He’d gotten a couple questions about his contract, and they all knew it was going to be tough. It got to the end of the season and everyone sensible, everyone who wasn’t Auston, and maybe Freddie, started looking around the room thinking, am I the one who moves to pay for him? It wasn’t a good feeling, but it was the business. Kappy had some more time left before he had to worry about it.

“You okay man?” Kappy asked. He put his hand on the gear stick but didn’t start the car. Willy patted his arm a little weakly.

“Yeah Kap, I’m fine,” he said, and then left his hand on Kappy’s bicep. They both sat in silence for a long moment, Kappy keeping his eyes on the dash. He didn’t want to do or say anything that would make Willy move his hand.

After nearly a minute of that, he slowly, carefully, looked over.

Willy was smiling at him.

“Hey,” he said, nonsensically, and Kappy couldn’t help but smile back.

Willy leaned towards him. It felt like it happened in slow motion, but it couldn't have been more than a few seconds, and then his lips touched Kappy's, and they were kissing. Willy's hand slid down his hand to his hand on the gear stick, and their fingers intertwined.

Willy's tongue darted between Kappy's lips, tantalising for just a second, and then he drew away. He was still smiling.

"Okay?" he said, and Kappy nodded quickly. He couldn’t look away from Willy’s mouth. Finally, finally.

“God, yeah,” he said, and then leaned in to kiss Willy again, both of them surging into it. They’d made out in Kappy’s car for nearly half an hour, neither of them wanting to stop, and they’d been late to Mo’s party. He hadn’t had a single thing to drink, but Kappy remembered feeling drunk, laughing at everything, unable to be too far away from Willy for more than a few minutes. They’d made out on Mo’s patio, and Willy had stroked his fingers down Kappy’s side, under his shirt. It had felt thrilling, captivating, totally new.

Kappy had dropped Willy off outside his condo at the end of the night, and Willy had held his hand.

“I’m going to Sweden tomorrow,” he said, and Kappy nodded. He knew.

“I’m going to Worlds,” he said. They both knew there wouldn’t be time to see each other.

Willy kissed him quickly, just a peck on the lips.

“When we get back then, when the season starts. It’ll be sooner than you think,” he said.

They’d both been idiots, Kappy thought, and shook himself out of remembering, putting his car in gear. Lingering on it just made it more confusing. He drove home, his music on loud, focusing on the other cars, the music, anything but Willy.

He went to the rink early the next day, well before practice, to work out. He had a deep, sinking suspicion that it’d be ineffective, but he was trying to ignore it. He could almost hear his dad, lecturing him in Finnish. “Brains open doors, Kasperi,” he said, every day before he went to train. Kappy knew it meant he was was supposed to do emotional processing work, because you never got stronger without it, but his body would just have to deal.

He pushed himself hard on the bike, and then just as hard in the weight room, looking for the place where stubbornness and frustration and sweat wiped his mind clean and empty. He didn’t find it, and it just made him slow and sweaty at practice. When they finished, he sat on the bench for a second, just trying to catch his breath.

Zach skated up, his skates hitting the boards with a thump.

“Hey,” he said. Kappy looked back at him.

“What?” he said. Zach reared back a little, and then reached up to pull his helmet off.

“You wanna bite my head off over lunch?” he said, his sweat tripping into his eyes. “Or you just gonna bitch me out here?”

Kappy deflated a little.

“Fuck off,” he said, but there wasn’t any heat to it. Zach ran a hand through his damp hair.

“Yeah, you’re definitely paying. C’mon,” he said.

Kappy kept his mouth shut through getting changed, staying out of it when Brownie and Mitch wrestled and Patty had to seperate them, and once he was dressed, he followed Zach out into the parking garage, his hands in his pockets, feeling a little like he was getting sent to detention.

Zach drove them to the Italian place near the practice rink that they sometimes did group lunches at, and didn’t talk at all during the drive. Kappy wanted to change the music, but didn’t think it was that kind of drive. Him and Zach weren’t super close; they mostly hung out at group events, and Kappy tended to think of Zach’s relationship with Willy as something that happened outside of his range of vision or concern. He guessed he was about to get that world view drastically rearranged.

Once they were sat down with menus, Zach broke the silence to make small-talk. The charity event coming up, Kappy’s family, their various experiences of junior hockey, all got covered, until their food was on the table, and Kappy had taken his first bite.

Zach put his cutlery down and leaned his elbows on the table.

“You need to call Willy,” he said, in an even tone of voice. Kappy paused, and then chewed rapidly. The sneaky bastard had waited till the food came on purpose.

“Why?” he said, when he had cleared enough of the mouthful to make words. Zach raised his eyebrows.

“You need a reason?” he said, and Kappy flushed. Zach started eating, cool as a cucumber.

“I don’t want to talk to Willy right now. It’s a distraction,” Kappy said, eventually. Zach rolled his eyes aggressively.

“Bullshit,” he said. “You’re afraid you don’t want to follow through on last season anymore. You think something has changed. You’ve forgotten he’s your best friend, and you’re trying to punish him for how you’re feeling, when it’s not his fault,” Zach tapped the table with his fork in time with his last words. “It’s a shitty thing to do, and it’s gonna start affecting your game. Maybe you were tired today, and that’s why you were so slow, but how long till it’s because you’re holding everything back?”

Kappy felt his shoulders lifting towards his ears defensively.

“Get fucked,” Kappy bit back, trying not to shout. Zach took a bite of his food, and chewed slowly, watching Kappy like he was waiting for him to say something.

“I’m not trying to punish him,” he said eventually, after a long moment of watching Zach eat in silence. Zach chewed for a second.

“Good,” he said. “He’s waiting for your call, you know.”

Kappy looked at his food, and pushed his fork through it slowly.

“Yeah,” he said. He pushed his food around a little more. “It sucks,” he said, and looked up.

Zach nodded.

“I get that,” he said. “But it’s not Willy’s fault. He’ll be here as soon as he can.”

“I know,” Kappy said. “I’ll call him later.”

“Great,” Zach said. “Eat your lunch. You don’t wanna stunt your growth.”

“Oh fuck off,” Kappy said, but Zach was smiling, and Kappy figured that was the signal that the intervention was over. Zach wouldn’t hassle him anymore as long as he did what he said he was going to.

Zach did make him pay the bill, but then he drove him back to his car, instead of making him wait for an Uber, and didn’t bitch him out anymore. Kappy wasn’t mad. He probably deserved it.

He drove home feeling emptied out, like after working out. Zach had said he was afraid, and he was right. He hadn’t been able to say it to himself, but someone else saying it felt freeing, like he had permission to feel it, finally. Willy not being around was scary, and he was mad about it, but it wasn’t Willy’s fault.

He texted Willy from the elevator of his condo.

**hey**

The two little ticks lit up next to it almost right away, and then Willy started typing.

 **hey** he texted back, and Kappy took a deep breath and hit “call”, standing outside his own front door.

Willy picked up on the second ring.

“Hey,” he said, and Kappy laughed.

“You already said that,” he said, opening his door and feeling high. Willy sounded the same.

“Kappy-” Willy said, and then cut himself off, and this was Kappy’s chance, his chance to make up for months of being shitty.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, before Willy could talk again. “I miss you. I’m sorry for being an asshole. I wish you were here.”

For a minute, Kappy listened to Willy’s breathing, and then WIlly inhaled deeply.

“I miss you too Kap,” he said.


End file.
